


Autumn Rain

by bennyslegs



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fawnlock, Gen, Kidlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:47:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1544795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bennyslegs/pseuds/bennyslegs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Rain! rain! rain!' Fawnlock bleated over and over, little hands grabbing at John's covers, desperately trying to wrestle them out of John's grip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Autumn Rain

**Author's Note:**

> ah hello! this is just another little fawnlock thing i wrote to pass the time, i couldn't sleep and so this came from that. 
> 
> most of my fawnlock ficlets stand alone, i've RPed and written/drawn for so many different variations of the fawnlock AU that it's got so many branches from the tree now, if you get what i mean, but yeah, this doesn't really match up with any others i've written, it's just fluffy but also a bit angsty kid/fawnlock.
> 
> fawnlock is orphaned, it isn't described in detail but implied. 
> 
> thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy~!!

Fawnlock didn’t sleep much. John didn’t know if it was a fawn thing, or just because of his age, all he knew was that it drove him up the wall. He didn’t have much experience with kids, and less with fawns. He didn’t know when Fawnlock’s birthday was, or how old he was (Fawnlock wandered off disinterested whenever he’d asked) but if John had to make a guess, he’d say Fawnlock was about 5 years old.

He’d looked so small, shivering on the doorstep of John’s cabin. (he’d come to learn this was an act, to appear vulnerable, fawns rarely felt the cold. Even this small, Fawnlock was a good actor) John had taken a step back, (shouldn’t have answered the door really, but it’d been a slow day, a slow week, his skin was itching with the need to do something dangerous) and had stared, taking in the small dirty feet and the fur around the child’s crotch and neck, the dusting of spots all over him, the fluffy oversized (deer?) ears, and the tiny but noticeable antlers perched among a nest of dark brown curls.

John had been having his own mini crisis, (what is it? am I hallucinating? is this some bad forest omen telling me to leave?) when the small furry boy had poked his head around John’s knees and decided, whether John liked it or not, that he was coming in, and then had proceeded to wiggle past and pad into John’s front room, looking around in wonder, before making himself comfortable in front of the fire.

That had happened two weeks ago, and John (curled up in bed with a pillow over his head, protecting his face from a very excited, very bouncy and very awake Fawnlock) was suddenly regretting not throwing out the little toe-rag when he’d had the chance. Before he’d got attached. He hadn’t meant to, as if admitting that helped any.

'Rain! rain! rain!' Fawnlock bleated over and over, little hands grabbing at John's covers, desperately trying to wrestle them out of John's grip. He'd learned a few certain words fast, and learned with great speed. 'Bored' had been his favourite so far.  
They’d only settled down to sleep (John peeked out, looked at the clock and groaned before dipping back under the covers) 4 and a half hours ago, John was exhausted.   
‘Yes, it’s raining, Fawnlock! We live in England! It’s a common occurrence! Go back to sleep, for christ's sake!’ It wasn’t even fully light outside, John felt his shoulder ache with the rain, and the injustice of it all.

He felt the soft thud of a small body against his side, and his heart sank a little. He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh. He sighed and rolled over, eyes adjusting to the dark, sleep long gone.

'We can play in the rain tomorrow, how does that sound?' (he knew technically it was already tomorrow, but hoped Fawnlock understood what he meant, he was foggy with sleep and too tired to explain.) Fawnlock was looking out the window, apparently oblivious to John’s words, but John knew better. Those large ears never missed anything, John had come to learn that surprising the fawn was extremely hard.

'Mum. mum like. liked. rain, we go out and, smell and feel' John noticed Fawnlock's little hands were clasped tight and he was wringing them, something John had noticed him do before, whenever he'd asked the small fawn about his family. This was the first time Fawnlock had told John something about them, without being prompted. John recognised the importance and sat up, pulling the covers off and motioning with his hands for the small fawn to settle in his lap. They'd only done this a couple of times - Fawnlock loved attention but hated to be coddled, and John was struggling with learning the difference. All that mattered was that Fawnlock was comfortable.

Fawnlock sniffed and rubbed at his ear (another nervous tick John had noticed) before slowly climbing over John’s crossed knees and curling into his lap, tucking in his knees and tail, almost as if the empty space in John’s lap was meant for him. He heaved a great sigh, and stared up at John with big eyes, their colour John hadn’t managed to settle on yet.

'We can feel and touch it soon, promise. It sounds like it's here to stay for a while. Close your eyes and sleep a little, and before you know it, it'll be morning and we can go enjoy it. Alright?'

Fawnlock did as he was told (a rarity) and closed his eyes before nuzzling his face into John's thigh. A moment later John felt Fawnlock give a feeble little nod, whether from tiredness or acceptance or both, John didn’t know. He couldn’t be what Fawnlock needed, he had no idea how to raise a fawn, but he’d try his best. It felt strange to admit to himself that he needed Fawnlock almost as much as he was sure the fawn needed him.

He hadn’t realised how lonely he was until he considered life without the furry whirlwind falling asleep in his lap. He had no idea where he’d come from, but maybe he would one day. All he knew is that he wanted to be in Fawnlock’s memories to come, to help him hurt less, to give him new memories of playing in the rain.

Fawnlock sighed in his sleep, and John couldn’t help but smile. His back would kill in the morning, but seeing the happiness on Fawnlock’s face held up to the rain would take his mind completely off it.


End file.
